Jen Emery

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Sonnet with a missing line, with love and thanks

‘Even at this late date, I go into my studio, and I think “Is this going to be it? Is it the end?”
You see, nearly everything terrorizes me. When an artist loses that terror, he’s through.’
Robert Rauschenberg

For that goat, and for that quote about your terror,
I forgive the easy nerve that had you out there
promiscuous in your hunger, that casual air
that space and friends were yours to take. And whether
you knew or not the air you breathed was rare,
I forgive the sheer dumb luck that placed you where
your genius could swagger a faultline to forever.
[ ]
Because for years that goat was just a goat,
until, curious, you laid it down and opened
a space for the erotic and for sacrifice, and spoke
an invitation to walk into that broken
and patient place between life and art
where fear and joy entwine or spin apart.

Jen Emery thinks, writes and speaks about work and life in all its messy beauty. Her poetry has been published in magazines including Atrium, Brittle Star and Mslexia and her short story in verse, Songs of Snow and Silence, was published by Atmosphere Press in November 2021. Jen was born and raised in Edinburgh and now lives in London with her family and unruly dog. She works in the City but much prefers sonnets to spreadsheets.